You know those mountains that you can see from the 210 freeway in Pasadena, just above the Rose Bowl? See picture above. I was stuck in the middle of them a few weeks ago thanks to my stupid Global Positioning System, or gps satellite navigation system. I was on my way back from Lancaster, CA when Daria, the voice of my gps, told me to exit the freeway and take Angeles
Crest Drive home. Having never driven on Angeles Crest Drive and only a general idea of where I was going, I had no idea what I was in for. The two-lane road began to wind and a few cars and a motorcycle zipped past me as I crept along safely in anticipation, wondering where the hell I was going. Then the windy two-lane road became a cliff and there was no chance of safely turning back. I looked at the touch screen on my gps and it said I had 25 miles to go. Dios mio, I thought (sometimes I think in Spanish) but I trucked along, nevertheless, hoping it wouldn't be as bad as it seemed. No dice.
I passed small creeks, snow and ice warning signs, nature preserves, lots of mighty old trees, and lots and lots of forest over the cliff beside me. I thought about my under-inflated tires and kicked myself for not taking care of them before I’d left home. But I was glad I’d at least filled my gas tank up in Lancaster before leaving, because the prices were much better than they were near my house.
As Daria droned on about how many more miles I had to go, I was tempted to throw her out the window and into the abyss, but I knew I needed her and was only slightly thankful that I was able to get satellite
reception way up in the middle of desolation. Yes, I was unhappy but determined to get home and meet my two wonderful friends, Patty and Becky for Becky’s birthday lunch at Souplantation. She really digs that place. But I couldn’t call either of them to let them know that I’d be late because my cellphone had no reception, whatsoever. If I had fallen off a cliff, gotten a
flat, or run out of gas up there, I would have been shit out of luck because I couldn’t call a soul for help. My AAA membership would have been useless to me. I would have had to hope and pray that a Paul Bunyun-type or a tree hugger happened along to find me.
Anyhow, I’m picking up speed now, desperate to get back to civilization, worried about what lay ahead, when suddenly a family in a gigantic SUV pulls out of a nature preserve right in front of me and decides that it is unsafe to drive faster than 15 mph. It wasn’t snowing, there was no rain, and the roads weren’t slick, so in my anxious mind there was absolutely no need to be driving that slowly. I waited until I felt it was safe and then I sped around them, driving on the wrong side of the road. The guy behind the wheel laid on the horn like I was supposed to wait for him to take his precious time getting to his destination. Psht-ah! I ignored him and kept right along with 10 miles between me and the freeway, according to Daria. I got all the way up to the top of the canyon, ready for victory and relief…only to find that the @#$%^&* road was closed! I was livid, cursing at Daria and cursing at the construction workers who weren’t on duty to hear me. I turned my car around and Daria gave me an alternate route to get home: drive back down the mountain about 15 miles and take Upper Big Tujunga Canyon Road. So I did that, speeding past two other slow moving cars (I was doing about 45, 30 around the curves) and then a bunny ran across the road in front of me and
was almost road kill. He’s lucky his little bunny legs were fast because I had no intention of slowing down. I would not have mourned his death. The miles counted down and pretty soon my cell phone got a few bars of reception. I called Patty to let her know where I was and that I’d be late. If anyone could relate to my adventure, it’d be her. She’s not allowed to drive anywhere without her gps. Once, she drove past Disneyland, which is more than 50 miles away from her home, and proclaimed “hey, I didn’t know we lived by Disneyland!” So for Christmas her three brothers bought her a gps.
Now in familiar territory, I turned Daria off and took the 134 freeway into Pasadena, thanking God for my safety. Later on I told my mother what happened and, after she chastised me for putting my faith in technology, she told me about a family she saw on the news that had gone missing in the forest. Turns out they had slid off Angeles Crest Road one winter and the father froze to death trying to walk in the snow to find help. The mother was able to keep her three children alive for a while with her breast milk. If you ever want to be scared straight about anything, my mom is the queen of doomsday stories.
flat, or run out of gas up there, I would have been shit out of luck because I couldn’t call a soul for help. My AAA membership would have been useless to me. I would have had to hope and pray that a Paul Bunyun-type or a tree hugger happened along to find me.Anyhow, I’m picking up speed now, desperate to get back to civilization, worried about what lay ahead, when suddenly a family in a gigantic SUV pulls out of a nature preserve right in front of me and decides that it is unsafe to drive faster than 15 mph. It wasn’t snowing, there was no rain, and the roads weren’t slick, so in my anxious mind there was absolutely no need to be driving that slowly. I waited until I felt it was safe and then I sped around them, driving on the wrong side of the road. The guy behind the wheel laid on the horn like I was supposed to wait for him to take his precious time getting to his destination. Psht-ah! I ignored him and kept right along with 10 miles between me and the freeway, according to Daria. I got all the way up to the top of the canyon, ready for victory and relief…only to find that the @#$%^&* road was closed! I was livid, cursing at Daria and cursing at the construction workers who weren’t on duty to hear me. I turned my car around and Daria gave me an alternate route to get home: drive back down the mountain about 15 miles and take Upper Big Tujunga Canyon Road. So I did that, speeding past two other slow moving cars (I was doing about 45, 30 around the curves) and then a bunny ran across the road in front of me and
was almost road kill. He’s lucky his little bunny legs were fast because I had no intention of slowing down. I would not have mourned his death. The miles counted down and pretty soon my cell phone got a few bars of reception. I called Patty to let her know where I was and that I’d be late. If anyone could relate to my adventure, it’d be her. She’s not allowed to drive anywhere without her gps. Once, she drove past Disneyland, which is more than 50 miles away from her home, and proclaimed “hey, I didn’t know we lived by Disneyland!” So for Christmas her three brothers bought her a gps.Now in familiar territory, I turned Daria off and took the 134 freeway into Pasadena, thanking God for my safety. Later on I told my mother what happened and, after she chastised me for putting my faith in technology, she told me about a family she saw on the news that had gone missing in the forest. Turns out they had slid off Angeles Crest Road one winter and the father froze to death trying to walk in the snow to find help. The mother was able to keep her three children alive for a while with her breast milk. If you ever want to be scared straight about anything, my mom is the queen of doomsday stories.
Real life doomsday stories my mom may know:
http://losangeles.cbslocal.com/2011/04/11/motorcyclist-dies-after-crash-in-angeles-national-forest/
http://articles.latimes.com/2011/apr/04/local/la-me-hiker-search-20110404
http://www.scpr.org/news/2010/07/26/cliff-diver-found-unconscious-angeles-national-for/
http://latimesblogs.latimes.com/lanow/2009/11/body-found-in-angeles-national-forest.html
http://latimesblogs.latimes.com/lanow/2010/09/south-gate-elementary-teacher-death.html
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